Specimen(14)

As we approach the end of the hallway, it intersects another, larger corridor. I can hear faint voices. There are tall windows in front of us looking out over the cityscape. I can see a sliver of water between two of the tall buildings.

“Sten.” Riley’s grip on my shoulders tightens.

I look into her eyes as I place my finger over my lips to quiet her. I point to myself and mouth “I’ve got this” before setting her gently on the floor.

I peer around the corner. There are four of them, each heavily armed. They’re wearing fatigues with a geometric symbol over their biceps. Two are only a handful of steps from the corner, but the others are farther from reach. There’s no way to take both of them out without the others noticing and having an opportunity to fire.

I have to succeed. Riley’s life depends on it.

In my mind, flashing images filled with sight and sound tell me exactly how to proceed, who to attack first, and seventeen different parry tactics based on the most likely reactions of the man next to him. Further instructions fill my head as I make my first move.

Using all my speed, I enter the corridor and run to the back of the first man. With the sharp end of the table leg, I jab at the space between his hairline and the collar of his jacket. My weapon isn’t sharp enough for an instant kill, but it’s enough to drop him to the ground, incapacitated. An instant later, I slam the metal rod into the face of the man next to him, and he joins his companion on the floor.

Shots ring out. I dive to one side, rolling to the wall and coming up in a crouch. I’ve moved quickly enough to confuse them and spoil their aim. With my feet planted firmly against the floor, I lunge with my arms spread, tackling them both to the ground with one blow. Neither has a chance to get off another shot before they’re down. I slam the palm of my hand into one man’s face, grab his weapon, and bash in his teeth.

He flies backward, and the weapon flies with him. I reach for the throat of the other, shoving him to his back as I straddle his chest. His eyes bulge as he struggles for air, but he has no hope of unlocking my fingers from his neck.

As the light dims in his eyes, I hear the slamming of feet on the tile floors. I look up, and a group of men is running in my direction, weapons aimed. Rolling to one side, I grab the body off the floor and hold it up. It quakes in my grasp as bullets slam into it.

“Sten!” I glance quickly over my shoulder at Riley. She’s moved herself out into the corridor. She’s still on the ground, but is now clearly visible to the invaders.

What the hell is she doing?

“Stay back!” I yell. “Get back behind the wall!”

If she stays out there, I can’t protect her. She’s hurt. She’s vulnerable. She could die. I might not be able to save her. Riley could die. I can’t let that happen. Nothing is more important than her. I have to kill them now. I have to kill them all.

Shots ring out again. Switching the chair leg to my left hand, I grab for the handgun in the dead man’s holster and begin to fire. They’re all running toward me, and I have to recalculate every shot. It all happens so quickly, yet I see every action of every soldier. I hear every shot, feel every kickback. Bullets whiz past my ears, but I never falter. There are eight of them, and I drop seven before running out of ammo.

The last of them comes at me. He, too, is out of ammunition, and he screams as he rushes me with the butt of his weapon pointed toward my face. I drop the gun and swing the chair leg to connect with his head. He drops to the ground, and I’m on top of him, shoving the sharp end of my weapon into his guts. His eyes bulge, and he slumps to the ground beneath me.

A moment later, the area is filled with grey fog.

What?

I shake my head and quickly look around as the walls around me fade away. The body below me disappears along with my weapon. When I look in the direction where Riley was sitting, she’s gone too.

Fingers brush the space behind my ear, and my vision returns.

I’m in the virtual training room, still sitting on the interface chair. There are no sirens, no flashing red lights. Riley is at my side, smiling.

“What the hell was that?” My heart pounds in my chest, and sweat coats my skin. The fingers of my right hand are clenched tightly as if I’m still holding the chair leg. I can’t release my grip though there is nothing there to hold on to.

“Wow, Sten,” Riley says. “That was amazing.”

I look around the familiar room again, beginning to comprehend. I’m exactly where I started. I haven’t left the simulation room at all, and Riley is walking up to me, uninjured, with long, sure strides.

“It…it was all fake?”